The Dance Of Shadows
by purpledragon6
Summary: A series of one-shots centered around Lorna and her life in the Unknown with her Auntie Whispers and those who come by her home. My first fanfiction for the OTGW series. Chapter 3: The Mother of the Changeling Child.
1. The Cellar Door

**A/N: WirtxLorna? Go ahead and hate me for it but I think there is something much richer to their relationship than they both let on. Wirt, as we see, will not become flustered over just any woman interacting with him. Same with Lorna. So with that I have decided to squeeze anything I can out of that ten minute episode that had the two interacting and the opening and ending 5 seconds with Lorna in it :D **

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><p><strong>Lorna's Point Of View:<strong>

An Autumn breeze flutters through the cracks of the old wood door, causing the flame of the small wax candle to flicker in a melodramatic dance, casting swaying shadows off of the uneven walls of the cellar. Pale hands shook in time with the flame, as porcelain white bones were stacked in a ceremonious order along the wall, disrupting the dance of shadows and stretching them along the ceiling above the head of the young woman who handled them with care. A shiver ran down her spine, when the breeze tickled the back of her neck and ruffled the dirtied trim of her gown, followed by a gentle creak of the wood, causing a light yelp to emit from her lips. A cough soon rose up from her throat, wracking her already thin body violent, as the wind had done to the flame and shaking her to her own bones.

She feels the remains of the breeze on her already chilling face, and for a moment she felt another cough rise up in her throat, momentarily stalling her next breath as she forced it back down, feeling far to weak to handle another wracking cough. After taking a moment to compose herself, a gentle rapping of the upstairs door wafted gently down to her delicate ears. With a soft nod, a simple thought entered her mind.

_'She returns...' _The young woman thought fondly, turning swiftly and taking up the candle by the handle of its copper holder.

With another cough, this one much more gentle than the one that had hit her before, she walked towards the cellar door and placed her cool hand against its rough surface and gently pushed it opened, using very little of her weight to move the door from the wall. Looking over her shoulder one last time at her handy work, she frowned a touch and turned away quickly from the sight.

"I apologize, my turtles... Perhaps next time things will be different..." She spoke lovingly to the bones behind her, moving quickly out of the door and into the stone hall.

The cool air of the outside world swirled around her rapidly, nearly blowing her candle out and her poor frame over as she clutched the buttons of her gown closer to her thin body as she tread through the dirt ground, jumping every so often at the echoes that cackled behind her. Taking a deep breath to calm her nerves, she continued the long journey to the stair case that would lead her back upstairs. Adjusting the candle in her hand, she took hold of the wooden handrail and shakily searched the darkened floor with her foot for the first step.

"There it is." She whispered to herself when she finally nudged the wood board and quickly stepped down onto it, a squeak sounding around her as she did, the rusted nails of the board groaning under her weight.

The next step was quieter, much to her relief. Smiling softly once more, she counted her way up the stairs, finding that it took her 36 creaking steps to get up to the large oak door that closed her off from her living room. Setting her candle on a nearby column, she brushed her dirty hands against her gown to clean them of dust, wax, and any splinters she might have gotten from the rail. Once done, she pressed her both of her thin hands to the door and leaned on it, using more of her weight to force it open, only to wince away from the sudden burst of light from the upstairs. Her eyes adjusted quickly, however, and she quickly stepped out onto the landing with a final look over her shoulder and one last thought was passed back down the stairs before she left.

"Perhaps I will be able to control her next time..." She muttered as she hurried into the room and closed the door behind her, as if frightened that if she didn't then the bones on the wall would come up to harm her.

Sighing heavily and forcing down another quickly happening cough, she walked at a brisk pace over to the final door that she would need to pass in order to enter her and her aunty's front room. Going to it, she took a deep breath and pushed the door opened a crack.

"Aunty Whispers, I've-" A gasp cut off her lips when her eyes fell on the sight of not her aunt, but of two young males who were frozen in shock before her.


	2. The Ringing Of Bells Part 1

**A/N: Chapter 2: The Ringing Of Bells Part 1**

**Not an exact transcript of the episode, but it does contain a few spoilers for those who have not seen the episode yet.**

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><p>"Auntie Whispers, I've-" A gasp cut off her weak voice as her eyes fell upon a sight that was not her beloved aunt.<p>

Rather, she found the forms of two young males, who were frozen in shock before her. Both were perched beside one of the many baskets of turtles that her aunt had kept around the house. From the looks of things, the littlest one was about 5 years of age while the oldest was about the same age as the young woman. The oldest one had his eyes still blown wide as an awkward tension fell over the trio, while the smaller one was now smiling widely in a rather boyish fashion.

"W-what are you doing here?" The woman stuttered, taking a step back from the intruders in her shock.

"We're burglars!" The young child's voice was loud and playful, but it still struck a bit of fear in Lorna at the thought.

Her eyes widened in surprise, her hands coming up to fold over her heart quickly as she felt both panic and bravery stir within her. She felt her mind go foggy for a moment as she considered simply doing away with these two 'burglars' just in case they did mean her harm, though they did not seem to be the type to do such a thing. However, as Auntie Whispers had so often reminded her, there was not a soul that you could trust in this land, especially young men.

"N-no! We're not!" A second voice rang out, bringing her back to reality.

Her eyes darted quickly to the oldest boy, who was waving his arms in front of himself in a panic. Now that he was speaking and moving, Lorna could quickly gather that her assumption of his age had been correct, as his tone of voice was lowered but not deep enough to be considered the voice of a man, but rather a teen who was quickly leaving his boyhood. Making the transition seemed to have left him quite a deal awkward with tongue but Lorna could tell that he was trying to be a gentleman and give her back her feeling of safety in her own home.

"We're here to burgle your turts!" The smaller boy cried out in a joyous manner.

"Greg!" The tall boy gasped in a rather annoyed tone, placing both hands in what seemed to be a protective way onto the second's boy's shoulders, only to shove him to the ground in a sudden burst of strength and his eyes quickly returned to the young woman.

Lorna could not help but smile and chuckle softly at the oldest, finding his actions to be rather amusing, remnant of two brothers at play. Though, she did not know if they were truly brothers or not, she could figure that they were just based off how they were around each other. It also put her at some ease, since these boys were currently proving to her that they were just as gentle and innocent as she had originally thought them out to be.

"U-um, sorry. But it was raining an-and we thought that this place was empty an-" With a grunt, the oldest boy forced the little one, now dubbed Greg, onto his face and then looked back up quickly. "A-and, I'm Wirt by the way."

His cheeks flushed a bright red as he spoke, since he had very little experience in talking with girls, especially girl's whose home he had just broken in to. Circling his arms around Greg's kettle hat, he pressed the boy closer to the floorboards in an attempt to keep him quiet as a nervous but still sweet chuckle left his pale lips.

"Okay, I'm done." The little boy squeaked from the floor as his brother released him gently.

"S-see?" Wirt chuckled nervously once more, clearing his throat a few times as a nervous hope filled his gaze.

Lorna was at a loss of words for a moment, having never talked to a boy her own age before, let alone one that looked quite like him. His cap was that of a young school boy and yet he wore a nurses cloak, giving Lorna the impression that the boys were not from around their land, for most of the boys in her area wore page boy caps and their school jackets.

"I believe you, I believe." Lorna spoke quickly, her own voice just as awkward when speaking to the teen as she ushered the boys closer to the basket. "But please, hide yourself before she returns."

"Lorna!" A creaking old voice made Lorna's blood grow cold as her heart picked up in its pace.

"Please!" She quietly begged them, turning to face the door suddenly just as Wirt gathered his brother into his arms and quickly threw himself into the basket of turtles, causing Lorna to gasp in surprise at the rather odd action.

It was a rather clever thing to do however, and she would soon learn this as the door of her home was flung opened and in stepped the bulbous figure that belonged to her Auntie Whispers. Though the woman had the face of a monster, with blackened teeth and an elongated nose and the voice of a dying demon, Lorna always felt that the woman carried an air of grace and dignity with her, being one of the oldest and wisest being that Lorna had ever encountered in the woods, and because of that air she always felt the need to show the woman respect, even when her insides were shaking with fear.

"Auntie Whispers." She greeted, trying to keep her voice from rising in pitch as she spoke.

"Lorna, have there been any visitors to this house?" With this question, Lorna felt her back go rigid, her eyes momentarily darting to the basket beside her.

"Nay auntie, not a soul." Lorna replied, tearing her eyes away from the basket and looking to her aunt.

Should she discover the boys she would surely send them away out into the forest again, leaving Lorna without a soul to speak to during the day. It was so terribly lonely in that old cabin, and sorting the bones of the children in the cellar was such a dreadful task. In her quick thinking mind, Lorna thought for a moment that perhaps having a little company in the house would keep her busy, maybe even more busy than chores alone.

"Oh, but you deceive me, child. I can smell them-" With a pause, the old woman lifted her large nose into the air and sniffed. "I can smell the children here."

"Children? What children? I'm like in high school!" A voice whispered from the basket, catching Lorna's keen ears and causing her to curse in a rather unladylike fashion under her breath.

"Aunty!" Lorna squeeked a voice that was barely audible, watching in horror as her auntie reached into her pocket and withdrew a bell.

"Do not decieve me, child. The ringing of the bell commands it." Her aunt declared in a loud voice as the bell rang.

For a moment, Lorna's mind went complete blank, though she was still complete aware of the sound of her voice. Her throat felt tight, nearly suffocating her as a sound forced its way into her throat against her will. Tears fell down her cheeks unwillingly, an affect from the bell's will, no doubt as she heard her voice ringing in her ears.

"Check the basket..." She spoke, feeling fear and regret settle heavily onto her heart as she spoke.

Surely, if the two would be discovered, they would be sent away by her auntie... Then Lorna would be all alone again with nothing but the bones to keep her company during the day... And she surely didn't want that. No, she wanted things to be different this time... She knew they would be different.

She'd be able to control herself this time and she knew it.


	3. Mother of a Changeling Child

**A/N: Anyone who knows me knows that I am a huge fan of Heather Dale, as well as any type of Celtic music that I hear playing. One of my favorite songs is Changeling Child and its been stuck in my head all day so this little idea just so happened to pop into my head and I flipped out of bed and hurried to type this.**

**P.S: Since Auntie Whispers seems to be almost the opposite of Adelaide, I figured that her emotions towards her young ward would be the opposite as well, seeing Lorna more so as a daughter than as a child servant. **

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><p><em>The wind blows low and mournful, <em>_Through the Strath of Dalnacreich..._

Lonely is the night in the land of the Unknown, where darkened skies are filled with heavy clouds and a pale shining moon rather than stars, lighting the way down the baron roads as a sort of beacon for those who have lost their way in life. With no-one to turn to, and no one to care where the path may lead, they'll follow that moon light, down to the very edge of the land. The moon had lead the old witch there many years ago, and it would lead her back to the little hovel she called home for the rest of her days. Each night would be the same routine, traveling down the path as a means of a waste of time, only then to turn as the moonlight rose and return back to her home. So rarely did she stray from the moons path to come and visit her sister in her pasture, but some days the trip was unavoidable, so she tightened her off-white bonnet around her bulbous head and shoved through the blackened earth.

"That sister of mine..." She muttered coldly under her breath, bowing her head as a cold breeze fluttered about her. "Always calling me out to the pasture at the worst of night..."

_She traveled to the standing stones, __And crossed into the green..._

Of course, it was not her sister's fault, as the night air made her terribly ill. So with another heavy sigh, Whispers continued her track up the stone littered path, squinting her eyes as a nearby cottage soon came into view. Warm light gently bathed the surrounding area of the home through the closed up windows of the home, all accept for one window, which was near black in color and let no light out, though the color was still thin enough that it ended up reviling just a small glimpse into the home that the pale faced blob of a woman could not see.

"The Beast... That must be him in the window..." Whispers growled low in her grey colored throat, balling up a pink fist as her movements began to increase in speed. "What does he want now...?"

_Where all the host of elven folk, __were dancing there unseen..._

Upon arriving at the door, she threw it opened and stepped inside, throwing the door closed before her sister had a chance to complain. Upon entering, the stench of blood hit her large nose hard, and she wrinkled it up in an attempt to block out the sickening smell. In the far corner of the room, she spotted her sister, sitting idly in her rocking chair with a blanket crossed over her lap and a small form clutched at her chest. Furiously she was snipping away at something that was blocked from view, not once looking up at her sister until she finally set her scissors down.

"You told me that she would bring me a child servant! Not tear the children into a million pieces!" Adelaide roared, looking up but passed her sister and into the windows direction. "Of what use is she to me!?"

"Sister, what has lead you to summon me here in the dead hours of night?" Whispers cut in, stepping in front of the dark window so that her sister would not have to move her head.

Upon hearing her sister's voice, the younger of the two witches sprung from her chair, dropping everything off of her lap in an unceremonious way. Without a word, she set about, picking up the bones that had been strewn about her home and hidden from view until just now. With a grunt of dissatisfaction, she took the bones to a nearby ball of yarn and wrapped them up into a pretty bow before sipping away the excess yarn and presenting the bundle to her sister like a present.

_Through the night she bargained, __with the Queen of fairies all, __who sent her home at dawning with a babe beneath her shawl..._

"I haven't time to chat with you!" Adelaide bellowed, stepping over to the mess she had made on the floor and picking it all up in the blanket she formally had on her lap. "Just take this and get it out of my sight! I have no use for it! Not even my wool would tame that thing."

With that, she shoved the pile into her sisters arms, muttering furiously about the mess she would have to clean, and how much of a frail old woman she was. With a distraught cry, she began to shove her sister towards the door, sending her on her way before she could speak another word to her.

"Now be gone with you!"

Grunting as the door was slammed against her back, the blobbing witch looking down at the bundles in her hands and studied them both while looking down her nose. In one hand, there was the package, and in the other there was a being as pale as bones. Setting the yarn tied package against her chest, she moved the blankets aside and in her arms, she found the pale form of a child, its hair cut to pieces, and pieces of wool gathered about its ears, cut up just like the child's hair. The deep, black eyes of the little child stared blankly at the clouds, numbly following them as they road across the sky. Frowning, the witch brushed the wool away, and tightened the blanket around the child once more and brought her to her chest, waiting for the clouds to clear before following the moons light back to her home.

"Such a strange thing you are... I can already tell." She whispered, looking down at the small bundle every so often.

This child had a weight to her, which should not have been there. Whispers sensed it the moment she picked the child up, and the moment she brushed the wool away from the child's cold, pale skin. An ancient evil could be sensed in her, though it now lay dormant in its human form, it did not escape the old witch's senses. Though, instead of casting the bundle aside like her sister, she pulled the child close to her and continued on her way.

"We all have our burdens in life, and protecting the children of these woods is mine." She muttered to anyone that would catch wind of her statement. "You included, little one... And those who that spirit of yours wishes to do harm to."

_Where once there lived a woman, __Who would a mother be..._


End file.
